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“And the men?”
“I handled it.” They rode in silence a quarter mile before he added, “I know you don’t need my advice, but I need to say it anyway. Don’t ever let my uncle find out what you did today.”
She stiffened, then made herself relax. “I’m just a silly Songweaver,” she said softly, “who got carried away.”
“Good.”
And then, because she knew it was the kind of “good” that meant he didn’t believe a word she’d said, she figured she might as well see if he could tell her something the Arrendons hadn’t. “Everyone is so eager to warn me to hide from him. He’s the king, but is he not only a man?”
“Once, I might have said yes. After what he did in El-Dennon…I don’t know what he is now. There is a reason he has not been deposed, Clare. Don’t underestimate him.”
“What happened in El-Dennon? What did you see?”
He was quiet a long time before he answered. “I saw the future, and it is a monstrous thing.”
They lapsed into silence, the forest passing by to the sound of Hellack’s and Kialla’s hoofbeats. The closer they came to Arrendon Manor, the more withdrawn Numair became, the more like the empty mask he showed the world.
“How did you find me?”
The question startled him from his brooding, as she had intended it to. “What?”
“Locating me. How did you manage it?”
Clare strongly suspected the shifting of his weight indicated embarrassment.
“You know those eccentricities I mentioned being known for?”
“Yes.”
“I, ah, might have had a latent tracking spell on the horse.”
“Why, Prince Numair, are you following me?” she teased.
“No. They’re on all my horses. I didn’t think to remove it when I gave her to you.”
“Oh, of course,” she said in her most patronizing tone.
“It’s true,” he muttered defensively. “But Clare? The spell’s used up, and I won’t renew it. It was an oversight in the first place, so do me a favor?”
“What’s that?”
“What almost happened today, in the lake—promise me nothing like that will ever happen again. Because next time, I won’t be able to find you.”
If that request wasn’t the definition of hypocritical, she didn’t know what was. But she looked down at how tightly his hands gripped the reins, and any sharp retort died on her lips. “I’ll trade you for it. A promise for a promise. I won’t make you jump in for me again, if you don’t make me need to stand for you.”
He didn’t answer until they broke from the forest to the clearing behind Arrendon Manor. And then all he said was, “I’ll try.”
He stopped Hellack at the edge of the expansive back patio and dismounted. Clare’s legs weren’t feeling very agreeable about performing the same maneuver. Numair cleared his throat. When she looked at him, he lifted his hands. “I could…you know.”
If this wasn’t absolutely mortifying, she didn’t know what was. She gritted her teeth. “Fine.”
“No need to sound so gracious.” He gently gripped her waist and lifted her free. “Though I suppose it is embarrassing when maidens who rescue princes have to be helped off the backs of their noble steeds.”
“One more word and I’ll punch you in the throat again.”
He laughed as he lowered her down, her feet landing on solid stone, legs wobbling more than she preferred to admit. She was trying to figure out what the odd feeling in her stomach was when the back door slammed open and Verol and Marquin strode out.
Verol’s gaze went from Clare’s face to Numair’s, to Numair’s hands on her waist. “I thought I made myself clear when I last spoke with you, Your Majesty.”
